the choice to change. I’ve been in Hawthorn ever since. It’s not where I intended to go, but it’s far enough away from Hollow Ridge that I can breathe and so can they.
Getting out of bed, I take a quick shower and decide to start my changes. First on the agenda today, I need to do what I should have done two years ago.
Calling Daphne, the head hostess at Su Casa, I’m given a newfound hope.
“This is Su Casa. Where everything that’s mine is yours,” she chirps cheerfully into the phone.
“Daph,” I say, “Will you get Raul on the phone? He’s supposed to be there right now.”
“Of course, I’ll check in your office. One moment please.” She puts me on hold, and I straighten my spine, gathering courage to not bail out. She asked me to leave. Now, I’m finally doing it. Took five months, but I’m ready. I can do this.
“Raul, here,” my financial adviser answers.
“I need you to draft some papers for me. It’s a perfect time since you’re already there.”
“How convenient,” he says exasperated. “What for?”
“I’m signing it over to my sister in-law.” He makes an unrecognizable noise at the back of his throat.
“Are you sure? She’s never managed a business before. She might burn it into the ground.”
I smile, knowing he’s wrong. Whether a new job position or the weight the world is brought down on her, Sparkle would thrive.
“Positive. Have them delivered to her by the end of week.”
“You don’t want to take a day and think on it? This is a huge gamble. She hasn’t been back here in two years, Toby. She’s probably already moved on.”
“It’s worth the risk. Get it done.”
“Of course,” he mumbles; his lack of faith has me smiling even wider. At least he’ll be surprised when it soars, just like I know she will. She deserves to be happy. I want that for her.
By the time I get everything in order over the phone, I’m searching my email for updates across the country. I’ve missed many conference calls and updates on my new venues. But life goes on even if I’m not around. It’s the beauty about having a manager at every location. They can handle all the stuff I’m not babysitting as long as all the numbers add up.
One email stands out as I’m scrolling.
You’re invited to our seventh annual... clicking on the link for the email, I scroll, noticing it’s from the Culinary Con event coordinators. Their names are signed at the bottom. They’re always trying to get me to attend this event. Every year, I donate, but not once have I shown up. It’s one of those events where boring businessmen and women pile together and flash their money. They buy chefs, hookers, and they drink profusely. Either way, it’s a shitshow.
RSVP here, a link sits, waiting for me to make a dumb decision. Sobriety. I’m supposed to try that.
I hover over it, wondering if I should take the dive, but before my head decides, my phone rings.
“Yeah?” I say, picking it up. It’s my business cell.
“Toby,” Erik, my Hollow Hills location manager, says on a labored breath. “We have a problem.” My mind runs many miles a minute, trying to figure out what could go wrong at Hollow Hill’s Mi Casa. As a mini version of Su Casa, it offers the same but isn’t as elegant. The hotel manages everything sans the restaurant, so there shouldn’t be an issue. And with him saying otherwise, my nerves are heightened.
“What is it?” I eventually ask. I don’t want to know. There’s already so much on my plate. This will only worsen my mood.
“Debra’sgone,” he says really fast, as if that’ll lessen the blow. It doesn’t. Debra’s the only chef we have at the hotel. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I have no one, and finding a stellar replacement is out of the question.
“I-Is she okay?” The first thing that comes to mind is some horrible accident. She’s been with me for five years. It’s not like her to miss a day, let alone be gone indefinitely.
“Oh, she’s fine. She fell in love and decided that was more important than working here. Which means we either have to shut down for a few days or you’re going to have to find a chef. Tonight.”
How the hell am I supposed to get a trained, schooled, and professional chef on short notice?